


The Gang's All Here

by pretendimanauthor



Category: SHINee
Genre: Drugs, Gang/Mafia AU, OT5, Taemin-centric, Violence, no pairing as of now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 00:16:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9631109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretendimanauthor/pseuds/pretendimanauthor
Summary: Onew's the boss, Key's his second, Jonghyun n Minho do the dirty work, n Taem is jus the new kidwarnings: violence, cursing, drugs, other gang family related stuff





	1. Grannies & Guns

“Goddammit, Taem. I _told_ you to let Onew know that we were taking out the trash.”

“I’m sorry, Jonghyun. Really,” Taemin pouts as he rips a piece of duct tape off the roll.

“I mean, what if he tells Key to go handle it? What if Key barges into their hideout, shooting the whole fuckin place up, only to find that we already got the guy?” Jonghyun takes the tape from Taemin, and slaps it onto the mouth of the unconscious, bleeding man lying in his trunk.

“I get why you’re upset. It was a rookie mistake,” Taemin tugs on the zip ties around their victim’s hands and feet one last time, “It won’t happen again.”

“I know. I forgive you, kiddo. Hopefully Onew will too,” Jonghyun ruffles Taemin’s dipdyed hair, and slams the trunk shut.

“Alright, alright. Enough of this family lesson bullshit. Let’s move,” Minho insists, tucking his gun into the waistband of his jeans.

“Okay, let’s get the fuck out of here,” Jonghyun replies, adjusting his sunglasses with bloodied fingers. The three pile into Jonghyun’s vintage Aston Martin convertible, otherwise known as “The Baby”, and peel away from the now ransacked home of one of the rival gang’s most prized associates.

“When we get back home, you better grovel before the boss and beg for your fucking life, kid,” Minho glances at Taemin through the sideview mirror.

“I promise I will,” Taemin nods vigorously, rubbing at his already bruised knuckles.

“Maybe he’ll cut you some slack, though. You _did_ help us deal with some serious scum,” Minho smiles, “You know we all love you like family, Taem. Just be more careful.”

“Yes, sir,” Taemin flashes one of his bright, boyish smiles, and Minho visibly relaxes. He pulls out a lighter from inside his leather jacket, puts a cigarette to his lips, and is just about to light it when Jonghyun slaps the cigarette out of his mouth, sending it flying out of the car.

“ _No smoking!_ ” he scolds, lightly punching Minho in the arm.

“Tightass,” Minho mutters, scowling as he stuffs the lighter back into his pocket.

“You’re going to _ruin_ Baby,” Jonghyun says, clearly a little personally offended that Minho would even _dare_.

“But I’ve seen people smoke before?” Taemin takes a break from cleaning a knife with his bloodied shirt to look at Jonghyun.

“Not _you_ ,” Jonghyun rolls his eyes and Taemin grins, “ _The_ Baby.”

“Hold on,” Minho pushes his sunglasses up to his disheveled hair and peers outside, “Is that your grandma?”

“Holy shit,” Jonghyun spots the tiny old woman standing on her front porch with shopping bags in hand, and immediately pulls into her driveway.

“Mrs. Kim!” Minho jumps out of the car and jogs to the woman’s front steps. Jonghyun quickly follows, and Taemin trails behind.

“Is that my little Minho?” the old woman laughs, “Of course, you’re not so little anymore are you?”

“No, ma’am,” Minho starts to take the shopping bags from her hands when Jonghyun appears beside him.

“Hi, nan!” Jonghyun beams, and bends down to place a kiss on the woman’s cheek.

“Oh, Jonghyun!” she squeezes his cheeks, releasing him with a light slap, “Where have you been? No time to visit your dear, old grandmother?”

“Sorry, nan-”

“And who’s this adorable young man?” Mrs. Kim interrupts, and pushes Minho and Jonghyun aside to get a better look at Taemin standing awkwardly behind them.

“I’m Taemin, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you,” he reaches to shake Mrs. Kim’s hand, but the woman grabs his face instead.

“Well I have _never_ , in all my years, seen someone as cute as you, Taemin,” she asserts, examining every aspect of Taemin’s face.

“Thank you,” he smiles.

“Now, how did such a pretty little thing involved in such a serious business?”

“Nan, not now,” Jonghyun steers his grandma away from Taemin, directing her to open the front door.

“Alright, I can see you boys have been very busy today,” she says, staring pointedly at the blood splatters on all of their clothing, “So why don’t you come inside for a snack?”

Once inside, she ushers the three into the kitchen. Minho unloads her groceries, Jonghyun sits at the table beside Taemin, and Mrs. Kim busies herself in the fridge.

“Um, is the- the... _you know_ gonna be okay in the car?” Taemin whispers, unsure of how aware Jonghyun’s grandma is of their current situation.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jonghyun replies, waving a hand dismissively, “We won’t be here long.”

“You boys are in luck- Minho, be a dear and hand me one of those plates off the top shelf- I made a batch of cookies just yesterday, and they’ve been sitting in the fridge, just waiting to be eaten.” Minho hands Mrs. Kim a heart shaped plate, clearly made by a grandchild, and takes his seat at the table. Mrs. Kim transfers the cookies from a baking sheet to the plate, and then places it on top of the flowery table cloth. She lovingly watches as they each accept an oatmeal cookie.

“Your house is very nice, Mrs. Kim,” Taemin smiles, gazing around. Sunflower curtains hang over a full kitchen sink, framing an uncharacteristically pretty view of the neighborhood. The fridge is plastered with messy childrens’ artwork and family photos. Little knick-knacks line the scalloped tops of the cupboards. The table and chairs are worn down from decades of family gatherings, matching the warm homey-ness of the kitchen. It makes Taemin a little homesick.

“Well, I imagine it’s much nicer than wherever Onew’s having you stay. I always tell him to fix those apartments up, but that boy never listens,” she wags her finger at Jonghyun, as if he’s to blame for his older brother’s interior decorating skills.

“We have to go now, nan. Thank you,” Jonghyun rises and hugs Mrs. Kim.

“Okay, I love you boys. Tell Onew to come visit his grandmother every once in awhile!”

“Will do,” Jonghyun gestures for Minho and Taemin to hug Mrs. Kim. She squishes each of them, pecking their cheeks before they head out the door.

“Don’t get into too much trouble!” she waves.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Jonghyun laughs and waves, revealing the gun in his waistband. Mrs. Kim gives one last shake of her head before heading back inside.

“We better hurry the fuck up. If we don't get home in time, we might miss the chance to get any information from this asshole before we deliver his head to Kwon," Minho says, running a hand through his hair.

Jonghyun nods, and starts the engine. All is quiet as they continue to drive to their warehouse, waving at the cops they've got on their side and flipping off the ones who work with Kwon.

"Your grandma seemed really nice," Taemin pipes up, still slightly anxious to make up for his earlier mistake.

"She killed her husband with a meat tenderizer," Minho snorts.

"Family lesson bullshit number 2: never underestimate anybody," Jonghyun says, peering at Taemin through the rearview mirror, and holding up two authoritative fingers.

"Oh- okay," Taemin gulps. He's got a lot to learn.


	2. Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> onew interrogates a traitorous lackey in key's strip club

“I swear, boss. I just- I just don’t know what happened-” the ugly, sweaty guy sitting at the table begins to plead, and Taemin zones out. Key, sitting across from Taemin is looking even more immaculate than usual. His blonde hair is styled without a single stray hair, his huge chic cross earrings gleam with reflections of the club’s neon lights, and his flawless skin has an iridescent glow. He removed his purple fur coat when they first sat down, so now he’s just dressed in all black. Taemin really doesn’t understand how someone as entrancing as Key could be real.

Not even Onew, whom everyone adores, has the same other worldly qualities as Key. He’s certainly well groomed, with sleek brownish hair and smooth skin, and his dress shirt does nothing to hide his muscular physique, especially with the sleeves rolled up, but there’s just something uniquely beautiful about Key. His elegance somehow fits in with the vibrant strip club they’re currently inside, while Onew’s formal, no-bullshit aura starkly contrasts with the place.

Taemin smiles to himself, remembering when Jonghyun first filled him in on Key’s role within the family. Key has always been Onew’s right hand man, in charge of the big stuff like sorting out inter-gang conflict and revenue and making sure their people are  _ their people _ . A while back, their former club owner suffered an unfortunate “accident”, and Key assumed the responsibility of managing one of their most profitable businesses. Before he took the position, he demanded that some changes happen. He insisted that Onew allow him to hire women of varying body types and races and gender identities and sexualities, and to enforce strict rules on the conduct of their clients. Only when Key was absolutely positive that his employees would be protected and treated fairly did he accept ownership. Taemin was shocked when Jonghyun told him about all this, not only because a notorious mob villain chose a low level job in order to uphold civil rights, but also because he had the nerve to outright  _ demand _ something from Onew. Key’s like the ballsiest person Taemin knows.

He focuses back on Key, who seems a little distracted by the surroundings, undoubtedly pleased that he’s in charge of the most profitable and accepting strip club in the city. Taemin’s mind begins to drift off again, imagining how nice it would be to hang around with Key sometime, learning all about being the second most powerful man in the city, until Onew finally interrupts the guy’s begging.

“Come on, quiet down. I know you don’t want to get in trouble, and you say that it was only a misunderstanding-”

“Onew-” Key furrows his brow and begins to protest such nice talk, but Onew holds up a silencing hand.

“Let me finish. You would never lie to me, especially since I’ve treated you so well over the years. Isn’t that right, Thomas?” Onew gazes at the man across from him, sympathy oozing from his smile.

“Yes, boss. Yes, of course. There’s no way I-”

“ _ Bullshit _ ,” Onew hisses, his smile instantly turning sinister, “You’re a lowlife piece of shit who relies on scum lackies to finish your tasks for you. You’ve never shown me a fucking  _ ounce _ of loyalty, but I always felt bad for you, thinking about how my boys scooped you out of the gutter with not a single cent to your name. You made a fool out of me, letting me think that I somehow owed  _ you _ anything. And you know what, Thomas?”

“No, no, no,  _ please _ -” Thomas is shaking now, and the tension in the air is starting to make Taemin feel sick.

“The gutter’s where you fucking  _ belong _ ,” Onew spits.

“Please, I swear- I swear I’ll show you I’m loyal. Just let me  _ show _ you,” Thomas is crying now, and reaches for Onew’s hand across the table. Onew’s upper lip curls in disgust as he moves out of the dead man’s reach. Key acts without a moment’s hesitation, slamming one of the elegant forks into Thomas’ outstretched hand, pinning it to the table. Taemin grimaces as the man shrieks, and blood begins to pool onto the white tablecloth.

“I believe we’re done here,” Onew raises two fingers, gesturing for a couple of waiters to come retrieve the screaming, sobbing, shaking man, “Have that hand sent to his friends. Make sure they know  _ exactly _ how much of our stolen money we expect to receive back.”

The two waiters nod, and drag Thomas behind the dancers’ stage. Taemin exhales deeply, trying to avoid thinking about whatever horrible death is awaiting that guy. Onew calmly takes a sip from his wine glass, and Key assesses the soiled tablecloth.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Onew directs his attention towards Taemin.

“Um, well... It was a good learning experience, sir,” Taemin replies, clearing his throat.

“You’re lucky, you know. Not many people get to sit in on such an important meeting,” Onew smiles.

“Lucky, huh?” Taemin snorts, and starts to regret what was probably a disrespectful comment, until Onew and Key laugh.

“You get used to it,” Onew gives Taemin’s hand an encouraging, fatherly pat before turning to Key, “Let’s have this tablecloth changed. Who’s up for dinner?”


	3. Two Shots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> key n taem investigate an apartment; we start to get deeper into the actual plot

“Why are we here, again?” Taemin asks, tossing aside the thousandth boring, ordinary novel that he’s removed from this guy’s book shelf. Apparently, Key suspects that something classified or important or whatever will be hidden within the pages of some random book, but all Taemin’s found so far are cheap joints and old coupons.

“Minho didn’t explain it to you?” Key sighs, entering the living room from the apartment’s tiny kitchen.

“Uh, no. He was too busy, um...” Taemin blushes, unsure of how informal he’s allowed to be with Onew’s right hand man.

“Let me guess. He was fucking that little blond tart, Jongin, right?” Key snorts.

“Yeah, actually. How did you-”

“Way back when I still lived with Jong and Minho, they started hooking up. They’d have the _loudest_ , _longest_ , most _annoying_ sex sessions at least once a week, and sometimes they didn’t even bother to take it to Minho’s own goddamn bedroom!”

“That’s _exactly_ what they do now,” Taemin laughs, “It’s honestly a little disgusting.”

“And so _rude_ ! I can’t believe that- _eugh!_ ” Key screeches, dropping the photo album that he was flipping through, a cloud of dust dissipating as some type of beetle scurries out of the pages, “I’m not even supposed to _be_ here. Hansol, or Sehun, should be looking through this asshole’s dirty shit. _Not_ me.” Key scowls at his dust-covered hands and undoubtedly expensive pants.

“If you wanna take a break, I can finish up the living room before we move onto the bedroom?”

“Alright, I’ll wash my hands first,” Key continues to speak as he walks to the bathroom, “Anyways, we’re here because the unsanitary douchebag who owns this shithole is Thomas’s brother, and Onew wants info on his whole family, along with any evidence of where they put the rest of Onew’s cash.”

“Thomas? The guy you, uh, _questioned_ at the club? They didn’t give Onew all his money back, even after you sent them his _hand_?”

“No, can you fucking _believe_ it? So now we have to kidnap some more family members, or some shit, until they tell us where that $13,000 is, and then we’ll probably just kill the-”

“ _Who the fuck are you?”_

At that instant, a man who, judging from his needle-marked arms and unstable walk, seems to have just woken up from a bender-induced slumber, exits the bedroom. Screaming wildly, he barrels down the hallway towards Taemin, brandishing a knife from his pocket. Without thinking, Taemin pulls a handgun from his waistband, and shoots twice. He hits both of the man’s arms with remarkable precision, only realizing what he’s done once the guy collapses onto the stained carpet, bleeding and sobbing.

“Holy _shit!_ Didn’t know you were such a good shot!” Key cackles, but Taemin just freezes as he watches the scene unfold. Key, still drying his hands with a towel, steps on the man’s wounds with his gaudy Versace loafers as he questions him about who he is, whether or not there’s anyone else in the apartment, and if he knows anything about Onew’s money. In a few minutes, the guy, who turns out to be Thomas’s brother, just passes out, and Key turns to Taemin with a smile.

“You did _so_ good,” Key grips Taemin’s shoulders excitedly, “Sorry that we didn’t check every room beforehand, but Krystal said he would be at work. _God_ , you should have told me you had such fucking great aim sooner!”

“First time I shot someone,” Taemin mumbles, finally looking away from the unconscious man with a vacant expression.

“First time? Like, _ever_?” Key gasps.

“No, no. I-” Taemin gulps, desperately attempting to shove away memories of his family’s blood seeping into the floorboards, _their_ blood splattering onto the lawn, and screaming; so, so much screaming, “I meant, it’s my first time since joining the gang.”

“Oh!” Key beams again and presses the used hand towel into Taemin’s hand, completely oblivious to his shaking fingers and labored breathing, “You stuff this in the asshole’s mouth, do a quick once-over of the rest of the place, and I’ll bring the car around. Onew’s gonna _love_ this!”

“Sure,” Taemin smiles weakly, and Key whistles a vaguely familiar tune as he exits the apartment.

Taemin inches towards Thomas’s brother, looking anywhere but the freshly blood-soaked carpet, his gun suddenly feeling fifteen pounds heavier in his hand.

“ _Shit_ ,” he breathes, and quickly shoves the damp towel into the guy’s gaping mouth. For a moment, Taemin feels himself begin to calm down, until he catches a glimpse of one of the disgusting, furiously red bullet holes. Immediately, he rushes to the bathroom, gagging when he trips over the gruesome body, and finally vomiting into the dingy toilet. He’s got to keep it together. God only knows what Onew would do if he found out about this.


	4. Mourning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jong helps taem cope with what happened yesterday

Taemin awakes to the sound of Minho and Jonghyun bickering in the kitchen, their words intermittently cut off by banging pots and pans.

“When is he gonna get up? His pancakes are getting cold...” Jonghyun says.

“Here, I’ll wake him up,” Minho clears his throat, “ _TAEEEMINNNNN! Get your ass-”_

“What the _fuck_ , Minho? What if he doesn’t feel good?”

“Don’t baby him.”

“I’m not!”

“You’re gonna get too attached, bitch. I can already see it.”

“Shut _up_.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll go wake him up-”

“ _No!_ Don’t. I’ll do it. You’ve got batter all over your hands, and no one wants to see your ugly face first thing in the morning, anyways.”

“Asshat.”

“Fuckwad.”

Taemin groans as he hears Jonghyun pad down the hallway towards his room, singing his name and continuing to blather on.

“ _Taeeeeminnnieeee_ it’s time to wake up! Seohyun is gonna teach you all about drug trafficking today. Doesn’t that sound _exciting?_ ”

Taemin would give his right arm to be left alone for one day, free to contemplate his miserable existence.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Jonghyun excitedly bursts into the room, but his bright smile falls once he sees Taemin curled up under the sheets with a dark expression.

“Ugh,” Taemin replies, sinking further into the bed.

“What’s wrong?” Jonghyun frowns deeply as he perches on the edge of Taemin’s bed. He pats the other’s legs comfortingly, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Well, I...” Taemin sighs, his mind racing with the various horrific scenarios that could result from him confessing everything to Jonghyun, “Promise not to tell Onew?”

“Promise,” he smiles softly, “Onew _is_ my brother, _and_ my hardass crime boss, but that doesn’t mean I tell him everything. Your business is your business, Taem. I _promise_.”

“Okay. It’s just... Yesterday. When I-” Taemin inhales sharply, “When I _shot_ him, I-” Taemin bites his lip, looking down at his hands as tears threaten to spill from his eyes.

“Did it make you think of _that_ day? When I found you?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, Taem...” Jonghyun gathers him into a bruising hug. Taemin nearly laughs, thinking that it’s almost like he wants to squeeze the sadness out of him, until he starts to cry instead.

“ _Fuck._ Jonghyun, I don’t think I can shoot someone again. I _can’t._ ”

“Taeminnie, I’m sorry, but...” Jonghyun leans back, stares at the other’s crumpled form, and sighs heavily, “We’re in a _gang_ , you know. One of the most violent gangs in the whole fucking _country_. How do you expect to stick around without shooting anyone?”

“I- I don’t know...” Taemin falls back into the pillows, and presses his palms to his eyes.

“Hmm,” Jonghyun hums, twirling the ribbon ties of his Tinkerbell pajama pants as he thinks, “I’ll tell you what, why don’t we keep this between us? I’ll try my best to get you out of the... _bloodier_ jobs, at least until we figure out what to tell Onew. Does that sound okay?”

“But, _why?_ I’m not giving you anything in return...”

“Don’t worry about that, right now. I’m sure you’ll be able to repay me someday,” Jonghyun smiles, but Taemin can’t ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Thanks, Jong,” he smiles weakly.

“Then, it’s settled! Time for pancakes!” Jonghyun springs off the bed, and gestures for Taemin to follow him out of the bedroom.

“Be right there!” Taemin pinches the bridge of his nose. Maybe he needs to be more careful about making deals with infamous gang members.


	5. Dismemberment

“What?  _ Why? _ Why can’t you just tell us before we get there-” Jonghyun groans loudly, jamming his phone back into his pocket, “The bastard hung up on me.”

“What’s going on?” Minho takes a lazy drag from a cigarette, which Jonghyun is quick to snatch from his hand.

“How many times do I have to  _ fucking _ tell you?  _ No smoking in my goddamn car!” _ Jonghyun tosses the barely used cigarette onto the street before taking a sharp turn, speeding down a lonely, tree-lined road that will lead them out of the city, “Onew is flipping the fuck out. He wants us to meet him and Taeyeon in the middle of fuckass nowhere, but he won’t tell me  _ why _ . That secretive asshole... Making  _ me _ take  _ my _ car-”

“ _ Awww _ is little baby brother Jonghyun jealous that Onew gets to make all the decisions?” Minho snorts.

“I’m gonna push you out of this car if you don’t shut up, bitchface.”

“Dickbag.”

Taemin giggles and hangs his hand out of the car, pushing back against the wind as Minho and Jonghyun start to bicker over radio stations. The last few weeks have gone by quickly, and largely without incident, thanks to Jonghyun. He’s been laying low, attending all the family meetings and interrogation sessions, but avoiding violence altogether. Luckily, Seohyun and Jongin are always looking for someone to help them arrange and manage their drug operation, and Onew is always happy to let Taemin work on his most profitable business sector.

“How much longer til we get there?” Taemin yawns.

“30 minutes, or so,” Jonghyun replies, revving his engine and passing a minivan.

“You drive like an asshole,” Minho sighs.

“You’re on thin ice, my friend.”

Taemin smiles to himself, settling back into his seat. As the gentle sunrays and warm summer air lull him to sleep, he watches the wind ruffle Jonghyun’s platinum hair, listens to Minho’s loud and carefree laugh, and realizes that he’s part of a family again.

* * *

“Taem.”

Taemin grumbles, turning away from whatever just poked his cheek.

“ _ Taem. _ You have to wake up now.”

Something jabs his stomach, and Taemin yelps, blinking his eyes until he sees Minho’s face staring down at him. Apparently, he fell asleep sprawled out on the backseat.

“Are we here?” Taemin yawns, and pulls himself up to peer out of the car.

“Yeah, and we have to-”

“ _ Oh my god _ ,” a girl squeals, rushing over to stand beside Minho, “He has  _ bedhead!  _ You didn’t tell me the new guy was so precious!”

“Uh...” Taemin stares at the pretty blonde girl, suddenly feeling very self conscious.

“Taemin, this is Taeyeon. Taeyeon, this is Taemin,” Minho gestures towards both of them, shrugging at Taemin.

“ _ So _ nice to finally meet you,” Taeyeon beams, “You better get out here and help me unload before Onew throws a fit, though.”

“Oh- okay,” Taemin nods, and hoists himself over the side of the car. Jonghyun and Onew are talking by a telephone pole, the only sign of civilization around the forest they’ve stopped by, a bit farther down the road, both looking very distressed.

Taeyeon leads them to a silver freezer truck parked deeper within the trees, and she quickly opens up the back before hopping inside. She hands Minho various knives and plastic bags and coolers full of ice while Taemin just stands there, confused and still slightly groggy.

“What’s all this for?” he asks, but Taeyeon just giggles.

“Are you serious, Taem?” Minho raises an eyebrow as Taeyeon drags what is clearly, undoubtedly a body wrapped in plastic and duct tape out of the truck. Taemin’s heart immediately starts to race.

“ _ Shit _ , I- uh. Um-”

“Minho, help me with the rest. We really need to speed this process up.”

Taeyeon and Minho disappear into the truck, leaving Taemin to sweat and shake for only a moment before returning with two more bodies. Minho arranges the three in a neat row and hands Taemin a cleaver just as Jonghyun jogs over.

“ _ Jonghyun _ ,” Taemin breathes a sigh of relief, “I don’t think I- I can’t do this.” He grips the other’s arm for dear life.

“I’m sorry, but it’s an emergency. I didn’t know-”

“ _ Get your fucking asses over here!” _ Onew shouts. Taemin sees their boss over Jonghyun’s shoulder, seated in the passenger seat of Jonghyun’s convertible, his hair startlingly out of place.

“Why- what’s  _ happening? _ ” Taemin looks into Jonghyun’s wide eyes, searching for an answer, for some way out of this mess, but the other just shakes his head.

“It’s our grandma. We have to go. I’m sorry, I’m  _ so sorry _ ,” he replies, taking a moment to stare into Taemin’s own panicky eyes before joining Taeyeon in running towards his car. Taemin watches, stunned and terrified, as they peel off, heading back towards the city.

“Come on, Taem. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we get to go see what the fuck is going on,” Minho sighs. Taemin chews on his lip, silently watching as Minho rolls up his sleeves and slices at the plastic on one of the bodies with a small knife until a bloody, discolored corpse is revealed.

“ _ Holy fuck _ ,” Taemin slaps a hand over his mouth and nose, his anxiety instantly giving way to disgust at the putrid smell.

“I know, I know. Let me help you,” Minho tosses the knife on the grass, and walks towards Taemin. He pushes the sleeves of the other’s gray sweater up his forearms, produces a small tube of strongly scented cream, which he rubs under both of their noses, and presses Taemin’s fingers tighter around the forgotten cleaver.

“Who is he?” Taemin gulps, unsure if he really wants to hear the answer, as he steps towards the unwrapped corpse.

“ _ Another _ rat. They all are,” Minho gestures towards the rest of the bodies before placing a cigarette to his lips, “You just watch what I do for a bit, and then you can get started on one of the others.”

Minho casually lights his cigarette, entirely unaware that Taemin is on the verge of a full-blown panic attack as he raises an axe overhead, bringing it down on one of the body’s arms with a sickening crack.

Taemin can’t breath, can’t think, can’t even fully register what Minho is saying. He’s saying something about sending dismembered parts to family members or fellow police officers to scare any other rats off, but all Taemin can really comprehend is that the veins on Minho’s forearms bulge each time he brings the axe down, splattering blood and shards of bone onto his crisp white buttondown.

He looks down at the body, and feels the sting of vomit rising in his throat. The corpse barely looks human. It’s missing both arms and a leg, and its bloated skin is glistening with bright red blood. Its eyes are foggy and vacant, although Taemin can’t shake the feeling that the body is  _ staring _ at him, judging him, hating him.

Just as Minho positions the axe over the corpse’s neck, Taemin backs away, stumbling over an ice chest as he stutters.

“I- I think I’ve got the hang of it. I’ll j-just start on this one over here.” 

Minho only grunts in response, and Taemin turns away from him and the hacked apart body, breathing heavily as he looks at the forest ahead. He closes his eyes, concentrates on the feeling of the chilled breeze swirling through his mussed hair, and breathes through his nose one, two, three times before the unmistakable squelching, snapping sound of an axe chopping through someone’s neck shatters any hope of regaining his calm.

The cleaver slips out his sweaty palm and falls to the leaf-strewn ground as Taemin falls to his knees. He wraps his arms around his head, squeezing and pressing, unable to breathe. His lungs feel like they’re collapsing, like he’s going to suffocate in the middle of some strange forest, collapsing onto the ground beside the other corpses.

“Are you okay?” 

He hears Minho speak, but he can’t look back. He  _ can’t _ . He can’t turn back to see that dead body, missing limbs and a  _ head _ , Minho’s axe slick with cold blood, Minho probably still just  _ standing _ there smoking a fucking cigarette, acting like he feels  _ nothing- _

“I have to leave,” Taemin chokes out. He clutches his chest, inhaling over and over, desperately trying to fill his lungs that just won’t fucking  _ work _ .

Leaves crunch beneath Minho’s feet as he approaches Taemin, but Taemin immediately springs up, bolting farther into the forest.

“ _ I have to leave! _ ” he shouts, his eyes and throat and lungs burning.

Minho doesn’t follow.


	6. Drain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warnings: domestic violence/abuse, drinking, trauma, this is most def a Heavier Violence chapter
> 
> stuff in bold is memory

Taemin pours the last of the vodka down his throat as he slides down the curved wall of a drainage tunnel. His eyes burn from crying, his throat burns from the alcohol, and his lungs burn from running so far. He has no idea how long it’s been since he left Minho in the forest, or how long it’s been since he swiped a couple bottles from that liquor store. All he understands is that his last bottle of bitter, disgusting alcohol is empty, and that he’s cradling it in a disgusting sewer entrance in the middle of the night like some pathetic, lonely drunkard.

“Just like dad...” he mumbles to himself, recalling the countless times he and his siblings traversed the city looking for their father, eventually peeling him off of some dingy sewer wall, dragging him home to their mother who would cater to that drunk asshole, regardless of how many times he woke up the next day just to beat the shit out of her.

He clenches his jaw and digs his fingernails into his palms, but the memories just keep coming.

That asshole, that bastard, that shitty excuse for a father did nothing but fuck up their lives, only drifting in and out of his familial role whenever it benefited him. His mother was barely a parent, but who could blame her? She’d been with his father for decades, enduring the endless cycle of pain as passively as possible, never giving up hope that he would someday abandon his thievery and violence for the sake of his family. This left Taemin to care for his neglected and abused siblings, to provide for their needs, doing everything he could to make them happy until he _couldn’t_ do anything ever again.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Taemin sighs, pounding the cold cement of the tunnel wall to keep himself from crying. Apparently, he’s just going to keep picturing _that_ goddamn day until he dies, despite how utterly exhausted he is of remembering it.

It. _That_ day. Them.

 **Taemin returned from school, entering through the back door like usual, depositing his backpack on the kitchen counter. He called for his siblings, wondering if they had started their homework, asking if they had eaten, but there was no response. He sighed. He was actually** **_annoyed_ ** **with them before he-**

“Shit,” he sobs, warm tears sliding down his face.

**He dragged his feet into the living room, ready to scold them for not answering, until he saw it. That horrible fucking scene. His little sisters slumped on the couch, blood staining their school uniforms. Bullet holes. Empty eyes. Some kid’s show theme song playing on the TV, despite everything.**

Taemin rolls to his side, vomiting and heaving, unable to catch his breath as he continues to sob.

 **He stood there. Frozen. His eyes running over the gory scene over and over again, bile rising in his throat. He inhaled once, casting his gaze aside, hoping to look at something,** **_anything_ ** **, besides his murdered family members, but instead, he found his mother’s body. Lying near the front door. Her mouth gaping open. His father’s shotgun by her side. Blood seeping into the floorboards.**

**Taemin shouted and screamed, terrified to get any closer to the bodies that used to belong to people he loved so much. He pulled at his hair and fell to the floor, completely consumed by heartbreak and confusion. Miraculously, he heard a car door slam shut and voices chattering among his cries.**

**His mind went blank. He surged forward, scooping up the discarded shotgun, charging out the front door. He didn’t care who was waiting outside, who was responsible for this, as long as they would soon be dead by his hand.**

**Four men stood in his front lawn. Two leaned against a sleek black car, talking and smoking. Another was on the phone, gesturing wildly. The last was seated on the front porch step, cleaning a pistol.**

**Taemin blinked once before shooting the man on the step, feeling nothing as his brains splattered on the lawn. The other men jumped to action; the two by the car running to the trunk, presumably for weapons, and the third scrambling to put his phone away. Taemin fires the gun three more times, killing the men efficiently, staring blankly at their lifeless forms.**

**The sound of sirens disrupted his cold, internal silence, jolting him back into reality. His family was dead. He just murdered four men. The police were coming. He needed to run.**

**So, Taemin ran.**

**He ran and ran, confused and terrified, until he wound up in the corner of some dingy bar, desperately attempting to dull his memories of all that blood, a well-dressed stranger sliding onto the barstool beside him.**

“Whatcha thinking about?”

Taemin cracks his eyes open, and finds Jonghyun hovering above him, smiling sadly.

“The day we first met,” he croaks, wincing at the roughness in his throat. Jonghyun sighs and seats himself next to Taemin’s crumpled form, adjusting the other so his head is resting in his lap.

“I’m sorry...” he whispers, but Taemin doesn’t reply. They’re both well aware that nothing they say or do now can make a difference. After revealing to Minho that he’s too weak to handle a few bodies, all he can really hope for is Onew’s mercy. Why would one of the most infamous, wealthy gangsters in the region waste his time on some kid who couldn’t even shoot a man without having a panic attack?

Jonghyun runs his fingers through Taemin’s hair.

“Onew’s going to fucking _kill_ me,” he laughs humorlessly. Jonghyun remains silent, and although Taemin knows that this is just the nature of gang life, and of his agreement with Onew, he can’t ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.

**Onew was amazed by the news of some random kid shooting down notoriously ruthless members of their rival gang, and sent Jonghyun to recruit him. Jonghyun bought Taemin drink after drink as he explained that the men killed his family in order to persuade his father to return some enormous amount of money he stole from their gang. Taemin agreed to meet with Onew, partially because he was far too wasted to make any rational decisions and partially because he couldn’t envision much of a brighter future for himself, and Onew was all too eager to take him into the family, keeping his origins a secret from the others to avoid jealousy and suspicion, betting on his unwavering loyalty, marksmanship, and personal vendetta against their rivals.**

The stolen money and his father were never found, but Onew kept Taemin far too busy to be concerned with his whereabouts. Police had begun infiltrating their ranks, as well as outsider informants and thieves, so they couldn’t afford to focus on their biggest rivals either. Taemin was supposed to alleviate some of their worries, intimidating and killing the various infiltrators once he was fully trained, but now that he’s proven himself to be more of a liability than anything, he’s done for.

“Maybe we should go home,” Jonghyun says, shifting under Taemin.

“ _Why?_ I’m gonna die either way, so I might as well just drink myself to death, surrounded by this lovely ambiance,” he snorts, waving the empty bottle around and breathing in the subtle sewage stench.

“Taeminnie...” Jonghyun sighs, hoists Taemin into a seated position, and casts a stern look into his puffy eyes, “ _We’re going to figure this out._ Onew won’t just throw you away at the first sign of- of _weakness_ , or lack of bloodlust, or whatever. He _won’t._ I won’t let him-”

“But, Minho probably told-”

“ _I won’t let him.”_ Jonghyun heaves himself off the ground, staring down at Taemin resolutely. He offers a hand, gripping Taemin’s tightly as the ground lurches beneath his feet, fear and vodka sloshing in his stomach.

He would love to believe that Jonghyun was right, that he had some sort of sway over his cold-blooded brother, he _really_ would, but all he can think of is severed limbs and blood-soaked flooring, wondering if Minho will be the one to decapitate his lifeless corpse.


	7. *NOT A REAL UPDATE*

hello everyone! here's a status update on gang au/why it's taking me so long to post the next chapter:

i started writing this fic over a year ago, and im determined to finish it because i need to work on "serious plots" (at least imo), but i've decided to postpone it for now. im not rlly happy with how the old chapters read compared to my newer ones, im rarely in the right Mood to write anything in this au, and even though i have the entire plot mapped out already, i feel as tho some events are mismatched n idk not cohesive. overall, i guess im just unhappy w the work as a whole. im not sure if i'll go back and rewrite the entire thing, continue putting out chapters as originally planned, or what. so, after a lot of consideration, im just gonna put the story on hold for now.

regardless of what happens with this au, thank u so much for supporting it !! if u have any questions/comments/suggestions pls dont be afraid to talk to me ^^


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